


Ghosts of Arkham

by orphan_account



Series: Batjokes multichoice entries [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Insanity, M/M, asylum AU, insane batman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne: Patient 5253 of Arkham Asylum. Son of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Known as the vigilante 'Batman.' Convicted and tried for the deaths of District Attorney Harvey Dent and Assistant D.A. Rachel Dawes, the destruction of Gotham Central hospital and the attempted killings of more than three hundred people, as well as numerous counts of property destruction.<br/>He is sentenced to life imprisonment in Arkham Asylum, and is treated by Dr Harleen Quinzel, of his worrying obsession with an imaginary character he calls 'The Joker.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of Arkham

“Bruce." His mother looks heartbroken. Bruce Wayne. The recently caught 'Batman.' is now dressed in the orange Arkham regalia. Hair greasy and messy. Dark circles of stress and anger blossomed under his eyes. Bruce glares out at his mother. She was shot when he was eight. This is nothing but a delusion. They were truly deluded.

"You are dead." Martha blinks back her tears, as Thomas Wayne clenched his fists and teeth at his _so_ n, the boy whom he raised, becoming an insane vigilante who crashes cars and use illegal weaponry to terrorise Gotham City. "You are all dead, after you have been shot-"

Thomas slams his hands down on the table, seething as Martha, the woman he loved, held back her tears.

"It was a traumatic event, Bruce, but we are alive-" "NO!" Bruce screams- he is THE Batman. How dare these people, mockeries of his parents- DARE to imitate them?!

The guards drags him, kicking and screaming into his cell.

\---

The doctor, Harley Quinn-he refuses to call her anything but that, sighs at him. "Bruce- it- the Joker- is _not real_!" Bruce glares at her, eyes wide.

"The Joker is real." He says, in a slow monotone that indicates a deadly rage. Said rage gives out vital information of the patient's mental state.

"I can feel his bones crumble underneath my fists." Bruce looks up, blue eyes locking with the doctor's. "I hear his laugh, every single day I hear it in my ears, echoing in my skull."

He brushes his hair back with long, bony fingers.

"His blood splatters on my suit-" His eyes are burning, as Bruce starts to wave his arms and hands around for emphasis. "His suit- it must be made out of silk- I feel them slip right through my fingers." Harleen remains silent, taking in all this information. The patient's obsession with the 'Joker' figure is worrying. He threw a fit when they took away his playing cards.

"His hair- he has long hair- is green. But when he washes the paint out- he does that sometimes, just for _me_ -" She can hear the sheer pride from that sentence- "Is blond. Like, golden blond. _Beautifu_ l, you know? But not beautiful like a woman, just- beautiful."

"He has these scars around his mouth- they look like a smile, but they are not ugly, no- nonono- everything about him is just- he has this kind of energy-"

"And his eyes! They _sparkle_. Like diamonds, except green- you can see every little detail- if you just look close enough." Bruce lets out a breath.

"He- he- _I want him_ "

The tone of the patient's voice changes. He leans forwards, eyes even wider almost foaming at the mouth with a mad reverence, slamming his hands on the table- If this Joker is real, Harleen would be feeling quite sorry for him.

"I want to feel him. I want to _fuck_ him." Bruce leans in, and whispers. "I want to **_eat_** him." Harleen gulps, hand reaching under the table for the emergency bell, but this has piqued an interest in her. Anyone with the slightest interest in psychology would _kil_ l for a session with Bruce Wayne. 

"I want to _take him apart_. Cut out his scars. Gouge out his eyeballs and keep the gems- 'cause they are gems, in a jar. I will peel off his skin while making love to him and screaming his name- JOKER!" He yells, throwing his hands into the air and grinning as Harleen jumps back slightly.

"I want to bite his lips." He whispers. "Bite them until they bleed, until they _come off_. I want to tie him up and keep him. Love him and kill him- cause he blew up the hospital and killed Rachel and Harvey-"  Harleen refrained herself from reminding Wayne that he had done those things, committed those crimes.

"I want him inside of me. _Every bit of him_. I want his bones in my bones, his marrow on my tongue and his eyes in my brain. I want to see things he sees, taste and feel him. Grab him by the throat and squeeze the air out of his throat.  I want every single ounce of his flesh in my stomach- absorbed into my body-"

His eyes are black with lust and want and loathing- "I want his soul like he wants mine."

"I love him."

 

 


End file.
